no offense but we totally won that
by TheEscapedCharacter
Summary: After a conflict in ballet class, Frisk finds themselves in a dance-off against the resident bully and a ballerina. An unlikely contender steps up to be their partner. Dancetale inspired, purely pointless self-indulgent piece of fluff. T for insults, anti-monster jerks, and a mention of bullying.


_**WELP.**_

 **Hello, boys, girls, non-binarys, genderfluids, bigenders, transgenders, and dinosaurs! I have become aware of a rumor going around: fear not! I am not dead!**

 **Although I am procrastinating. Like, a lot. Much procrastinate. I'm taking a bit of break from my other stories, since, well, the next chapter of Untrue Resets is not agreeing with me, and also life gets in the way of stuff. Therefore, sadly, hiatus. BUT I AM NOT ABANDONING ANY STORIES. Okay? Okay. Good. That's out of the way.**

 **This one-shot is a completely pointless little thing that I wanted to write, so I wrote it. Basically, I discovered Dancetale. How could I shy away from inspiration? Plus, fanart. So. Much. Awesome. Dancetale. Fanart. Inspiration strikes! Is it really so bad to want to write Sans and Frisk dancing?**

 **(Yes, I know I spent several hundred words describing just that. I'M AN AUTHOR I DO WHAT I WANT)**

 **In this one-shot, Sans is seventeen (I know that's not canon, but that's the age I headcanon for him), Papyrus is twenty, Undyne and Alphys are twenty-four, Frisk is twelve, Monster Kid is twelve, and Toriel is several hundred. I personally refer to Monster Kid as 'the monster kid' because I'd like to think he has an actual name and that Frisk just never found out what it was.**

 **Also, this story is not canon Dancetale. More like after-Pacifist with Dancetale elements, because I enjoy the idea of Sans being a hip hop** ** _master._** **I like writing fluffy after-Pacifist scenarios! It's actually really fun!**

 **This story contains sadly very few puns, a dance-off (don't judge me, folks), and a couple random OCs that aren't really that important, but it's a** ** _dance-off,_** **I need another team!**

 **Well, this author's not has gone on long enough! Undertale belongs to Toby Fox, I own nothing except the random OCs, and enjoy this pointless piece of post-Pacifist fluff!**

* * *

Frisk was not sure what possessed them to talk, but it was too late to back down.

"Stop!" they cried, stepping in front of the lizard-like monster kid. Conrad scowled at them.

"Get out of the way, monster-hugger. Or do you want some too?" He cracked his knuckles. Frisk was not quite sure how the resident bully of dance class could look so intimidating in slacks and black ballet shoes, but somehow he managed.

Their own stiff pink tutu felt like it was tightening around their waist. Come to think of it, Frisk's leotard and tights were feeling strange, too. Their slippers squeezed. And why stop there, when they could begin feeling uncomfortable in their own skin? Frisk began to realize that they should probably have stayed out of it, but they couldn't have just watched their friend get bullied. "Stop being mean to him."

Conrad sniggered. The other kids learning ballet in their same class were watching a few feet away. The instructor, Mme. Julienne, didn't intervene. Instead, she just watched smugly: the ballet teacher was one of the few people who still held animosity towards, and had no intention to halt the proceedings. Frisk narrowed their eyes.

"Why should I do that, monster-hugger?"

Frisk didn't have an answer for that. Their face burned. _This_ was why they rarely spoke up, preferring to watch silently from the sidelines. The monster kid's tail flicked up and curled around their fist: a way for Frisk's armless friend to show how they appreciated Frisk standing up for them. Frisk set their jaw and glared.

"I know!" Conrad mock-clapped, making a few others snicker. "This is a dance class, right? Why not a dance battle?"

Frisk glowered. Despite their stubbornness, they knew Conrad was a better dancer. He'd been taking ballet far longer than them. But Frisk nodded sharply, their chin bobbing in a quick death wish.

Curse their DETERMINATION.

He grinned. "Great! When I win, you stop being a little goody two shoes monster-hugger, alrighty?" His tone was condescending.

Frisk lifted their chin. If they couldn't feel any confidence, well, at least they could pretend. They began to sign before remembering Conrad couldn't understand and reluctantly opened their mouth. "If I win, you stop being mean."

Conrad smirked. "Sure, but we both know _that_ isn't happening." He eyed Frisk up and down. The annoyingly _hard_ floorboards pressed into their feet through their ballet shoes.

They knew one way that _might, possibly_ end in them winning. "Partners."

Conrad blinked. "Whaddid you say, monster-hugger?"

"Dance in teams. Have another person. Like a second in duels." Frisk was trying not to say much. Their throat was swelling the way it did whenever they talked too much. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.

Conrad stared for a moment before beginning to laugh. "Yeah. Sure, monster-hugger. Good luck, you just destroyed any tiny chance you had. Let's do it after next class, outside the building. Three rounds, you, your partner, then both of you. Freestyle. Prepare to lose, _Frisk."_

The use of their name made Frisk flinch, but they didn't say anything until Conrad moved on. Helping up the monster kid, they allowed themself to become determined.

 *** Worn Tutu, +10 DEF**

 *** Ballet Shoes, +7 ATK**

 *** These used items make you think their owner would be proud of you.**

* * *

Frisk burst into their house. The dance studio was within walking distance of their house, so they just walked home after ballet class, but this time they had ran all the home. After the initial adrenaline, they had begun dreading next class.

 _Hi, Mom,_ they signed to Toriel, who was in the kitchen, making her famous butterscotch-cinnamon pie. It was nice to not have to use their voice. Luckily, monsters seemed to naturally understand Frisk's sign language.

"Hello, my child," Toriel greeted, sliding the pie into the oven before coming over to Frisk. "How was dance class?"

Frisk couldn't help the frown that flashed across their face, and Toriel caught it. "My child, did something happen?"

Before they could answer, a ruckus arose from the living room. Both Toriel and Frisk let the issue drop for now in favor of seeing what in the world was the problem.

Frisk was greeted by a strange, unusual sight. Papyrus was _sleeping_ on the couch, his gangly legs tangled with Sans', who was using the older skeleton brother as a pillow. Undyne and Alphys- who must have arrived while Frisk was facing off at ballet class- were cheering on an anime fight going on on the television.

Frisk winced as someone got their head chopped off. They liked some of Alphys' anime, but they couldn't really understand enjoying something so violent.

"Girls!" Toriel chided. "Let's not wake them up, now."

Alphys jumped and blushed. Undyne snorted, but turned down the volume. "Like anything could wake them up," she scoffed, nudging Papyrus' boot with one scaly hand. "Never seen this loser napping before. Lazybones can really work some magic."

"Still," Toriel said, chuckling softly.

"H-hi, Frisk," Alphys acknowledged. Undyne immediately focused on them.

"Hey, punk! How was your wimpy ballet?"

Frisk shrugged, feeling a little sheepish about their upcoming dance-off. Oh, well; might as well tell them straight out. _Where's Mettaton?_ they asked Alphys.

Her forehead scrunched in thought. "I thin-think he's on a-a tour right now. Wh-why?"

Oh. Frisk deflated. They'd forgotten- _stupid, stupid_ -about Mettaton's tour. He wouldn't be coming back for at least a week. There went their idea, and with it their chance at winning their dance battle.

They started when they realized Alphys had asked a question, and that Toriel and Undyne were both looking at her curiously.

"Does this have anything to do with what happened at dance class, my child?" Toriel inquired.

"What happened at their dance class?"

Frisk bit their lip. It would be better to get it over with. They hoped Toriel wouldn't be angry with them. _There was a bully being mean to my friend and the teacher didn't do anything because he was a monster so I told him to stop and now I have to dance battle him next week with a partner and-_

"Whoa, whoa, hold it, punk." Undyne held up a hand. "Could you repeat that, please?"

Frisk repeated it, slower this time. The three older females took a moment to process the information.

"Do you mean to say you made a bet with a bully based upon your ballet skills to help your friend?" Toriel translated, raising an eyebrow. There was a tinge of incredulity in her voice, but thankfully no anger.

Frisk nodded. Undyne slammed her hand into the couch. "Well, that's not good. You've been taking ballet for what, two months?"

 _Four years before falling,_ Frisk corrected.

Toriel sighed. "Well, I do wish this was not a conflict, but I am proud of you for helping your friend, my child." Frisk smiled at the praise.

"So-so you need another dance-dancer on your t-team?" Alphys asked.

Frisk confirmed it with another nod.

"sounds like an idea for a bad fanfiction," Sans mused, yawning as he woke up. "you're in a real bind here, huh, kid."

"SANS, IT IS RUDE TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL IN THE MIDDLE OF A CONVERSATION," Papyrus scolded as he also woke up. The skeleton really had impeccable timing, Frisk reflected. "WHAT ARE WE TALKING ABOUT, EXACTLY?"

Undyne filled him in quickly. By the time she finished (her version having quite a bit more violence than Frisk remembered), Papyrus was fully awake and energetic once again. Frisk could almost swear there were stars in his eyesockets as he turned to Sans. "SANS, THE HUMAN FRIEND NEEDS ANOTHER DANCER ON THEIR TEAM FOR THIS NOBLE ENDEAVOR!"

Sans shook his head. "sorry. i don't dance."

"THAT IS BLATANTLY FALSE. YOU DO IT ALL THE TIME WHEN YOU THINK I CAN'T SEE YOU."

Frisk detected a tint of pale blue coloring Sans' cheekbones, which she knew by now was how skeletons blushed. "no thanks. sorry kid. i don't dance."

"BUT BROTHER, YOU ARE CERTAINLY A VERY GOOD DANCER!"

Sans looked away, the blush becoming more prominent. "nah."

"C'mon, punk!" Undyne was getting into it. "Frisk needs a dancer!"

"nope. you can do better than me, kid."

Frisk did their puppy dog eyes (which were practically guaranteed to work every time on both Papyrus and Toriel) but it was clear Sans wouldn't budge on this. They drooped.

"Can anyone else dance?" Toriel asked the group.

Alphys shook her head. "S-sorry, Frisk. This is-isn't my thing."

Undyne shifted awkwardly. "Uh...I know some capoeira…? I guess I could be your partner? I mean, that jerk didn't say anything about the dance having to be ballet, right?"

Frisk grinned widely. They were just glad someone else in their family could (and was willing to) dance with them.

 *** The encouraging smiles of your friends fill you with DETERMINATION.**

* * *

It soon became _very_ clear that Undyne's almost _violent_ capoeira martial arts/dancing didn't mesh very well with Frisk's more graceful, smooth ballet. Undyne was definitely flexible, but used it more for high spinning kicks than pliés and grande jetés. Frisk, although they were utterly DETERMINED to win the dance battle, wasn't very optimistic.

When the dreaded day finally came, both Sans and Papyrus came with Frisk and Undyne to the ballet studio. Frisk had decided to simply wear their regular tutu and leotard, but Undyne sported a loose white shirt and black leggings. Sans hadn't been able to convince Papyrus out of his battle body, but he himself had come in sweatpants instead of his usual shorts (they were the exact same design, though, black with a white stripe down the side) and blue and white Converse replacing pink slippers. Frisk hadn't even known he had other shoes.

Frisk felt apprehension take hold as they observed the tall lady Conrad had arrived with. She was a few inches taller than Undyne (which was rare) and wore a white tulle tutu and leotard, with pure snow-white pointe shoes and her dark hair in a perfect bun. The woman looked like pictures Frisk had seen of _Swan Lake_ and _The Nutcracker._

They began to wish that there were not so many people around to witness their imminent humiliation.

"Punk, don't look so down! They don't stand a chance against us!" Undyne reassured. Frisk appreciated it, but the attempt fell a little flat.

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS BELIEVES IN YOU," Papyrus encouraged. Sans simply winked.

"you know i'm rootin' for you, kid."

Conrad smirked across the room and whispered something to the ballerina, who glanced at Frisk's little group with obvious contempt. Frisk swallowed and quickly bade goodbye to their friends and went to their ballet room. Conrad met them at the doorway.

" _That's_ who you bring?" he snorted in disbelief. "Get ready to lose, monster-hugger. I bet they can't even spin."

Frisk ignored it and tried their best to go on through their dance lesson as usual, trying not to think of their friends and the ballerina in the waiting room, and what would happen after the class. Unfortunately, forty-five minutes went by very quickly when Frisk was dreading their end. Before they knew it, it was time.

The other kids filed out of the practice room and into the changing room, but the monster kid went to stand by Frisk's friends as they and Conrad met their respective dance partners.

"Ready, punk?" Undyne asked, although she herself was looking a little green around the gills. Frisk nodded.

The mishmashed group followed the ever-more-composed Conrad and his ballerina outside the studio. "Let's go to the square," Conrad suggested, smirking. The ballerina had a condescending smile as she looked them over.

Undyne apparently didn't like that any more than Frisk did. "Sure," she barked. Frisk resisted the urge to smack her hand to her forehead. Perhaps Undyne had not been the best idea, with her pride and stubbornness.

The small band of Dancers & Co. made their way to the square, a large spacious area with a tiled ground. Many passersby were shopping at the random stands and shops on the edges of the square. It seemed Frisk's embarrassment would have several witnesses, which had probably been Conrad's intention.

"We'll go first," said boy declared smugly. He made his way to the center of the square, the others circling around him. Conrad turned and smirked superiorly at Frisk. "C'mon, monster-hugger, let's start this."

Undyne glared furiously when she heard the nickname. Papyrus didn't appear to have noticed, but Sans' eyelights flickered off and on again.

Frisk sauntered tentatively across from Conrad. They looked around, desperate to stall somehow. "Music?" they asked.

Conrad frowned. "I guess. Aunt Natasha?"

The newly named Aunt Natasha the ballerina daintily set down an MP3 Frisk recognized as Conrad's. It began to play a melody Frisk knew. Pachelbel Canon in D.

The monster kid tried to cheer them on. "You can do it!" he cried in encouragement.

Frisk commenced dancing, but even with four years of ballet under their belt, Conrad was simply _better,_ more graceful, smoother in his movements, more flexible in his transitions. Frisk freestyled their routine as best as they could. In the end, though, rising delicately into first position, they knew they had lost.

Natasha the ballerina applauded Conrad as he bowed. Frisk curtsied, doing the movement out of pure muscle memory. They walked dejectedly to their friends.

Papyrus smiled widely, clapping. "GOOD JOB, FRISK! THAT WAS WORTHY OF SEVERAL CURTSIES AND ROSES! SADLY I DO NOT HAVE ANY TO GIVE YOU."

Sans mussed their hair playfully. "you did good, kiddo. maybe you should recitals more often."

Undyne crowed her agreement. "YEAH! I don't know why you were so worried, punk!"

The monster kid hooted. "Yo, that was awesome! Frisk, that was so cool!"

 _He was better,_ Frisk signed. Undyne shrugged. "Sure! But we've got two more rounds to win, right?"

Natasha the ballerina elegantly strode into the center of their makeshift stage. People had started gathering near, watching the impromptu show. "A girl wearing a tutu is not a ballerina," she sniffed, eying Frisk rudely. Frisk glared at the misgendering. "An ugly fish. A misshapen lizard. Two dirty dead things pretending to be human. Disgusting."

Even Papyrus looked a little hurt at that.

Sans' eyesockets had blackened. "hey undyne?"

"Yeah, Sans?" the former royal guard answered, staring murderously like she simultaneously wanted to kill the ballerina and run away. Her hand was curled protectively around the monster kid's shoulder.

"d'you mind if i take over?"

Undyne either knew or thought she knew something Frisk didn't, because she grinned and stepped aside. "Be my guest, loser."

Apparently Sans had taken that as encouragement, since he used a shortcut to blink from his spot next to Papyrus to right in front of the ballerina. Frisk gave him a round of applause while Papyrus and the monster kid cheered.

Natasha the ballerina looked him up and down and raised an eyebrow. Frisk could hear Conrad snort from ten feet away. They couldn't really blame him. Next to the prima ballerina, Sans with his hoodie and Converse looked like the definition of scruffy.

Frisk looked at Papyrus. He beamed at them without them having to say anything. "OF COURSE, FRISK! SANS IS A VERY GOOD DANCER."

Sans didn't shrink at Natasha the ballerina's glaring. "hey, lady," he muttered. "i'm supposed to be the judgey one here. do you wanna go first?"

She turned up her nose. "You're stalling, skeleton."

"shamelessly," Sans agreed. Frisk couldn't help a giggle. "but, uh, maybe we'd wanna go at different times. i think we're both gonna need some space."

The ballerina sneered, but agreed. "Conrad, turn on the-"

"hey, hey, hey," Sans interrupted. "you did the tunes last time. it's our turn now."

Frisk blinked, trying to figure out where he was going with this. Papyrus started to giggle, apparently knowing. The taller skeleton set something on the ground: an IPod like the ones Napstablook had.

Natasha looked skeptical. Sans continued. "i mean, if you're gonna win anyway, it's not worth anything if you don't prove you can win at dancing to _anything_."

The ballerina sighed. "Just turn on the music, skeleton."

"sure." The slightly evil smile on Sans' told Frisk that Natasha had just made a mistake. He spun around and pointed at the IPod, traces of blue magic pooling around his fingers. The music started, and then paused. Sans glanced at Undyne. "you don't mind, do you?"

Frisk knew that usually Papyrus wouldn't enjoy Sans using his magic so much, but right now he and the monster kid were just laughing. Undyne grinned and finger-gunned the shorter skeleton. Both Frisk and Sans took that as affirmative.

The music began to play again. Frisk startled as they recognized the beginning melody: a song they faintly remembered from when Chara was in control of their body. The song that had played when they faced off against Undyne. It sounded like raindrops.

Natasha the prima ballerina started to dance to the song, moving in perfect streaks. She looked like a liquid instead of a human. Frisk shared a glance with the monster kid, a grin spreading across both their faces.

Slowly and steadily, then all at once, the music changed. Soft piano notes became faster, with almost dubstep-sounding undertones. The empowering music would have been great for Undyne's capoeira, but the ballerina stopped dancing, and both she and Conrad stopped to gape at Sans.

He shrugged. "never said it had to be classical, did you?"

Frisk knew they couldn't argue with that, and after Sans' challenging words from earlier, the other team was not willing to back down. They watched gleefully as Natasha tried to keep up with the fast-paced melody, but the song was created for fighting, not ballet.

Even though, Natasha the ballerina did impressively good, somehow finding a balance between the music and her slower ballet. She ended with the song in fourth position, her arms arched up gracefully.

She smirked at Frisk. Their confidence diminished slightly. But they stayed staring at Sans, hoping Papyrus was right and somehow he was a good dancer. The monster kid's tail flicked back and forth nervously.

Sans did not seem that eager to dance now that it was his turn, but he grinned reassuringly at Frisk. "dontcha worry, kid," he said, pulling out black fingerless gloves from _who-knew-where_ and slipping them on. "i got this."

"I doubt it," Natasha jeered. Sans flashed her a smirk before pointing again to the IPod, making a flicking motion with his fingers.

"Hey!" Conrad objected.

Sans gave another sneaky grin. "you also never said it had to be the _same_ song."

Frisk was fairly sure that this whole thing would be worth it just for the chance at seeing Sans annoy the heck out of their opponents. Conrad unwillingly allowed it.

The new music started up. Frisk almost jumped and stared at the tiny screen of the IPod. The name scrolling past read _MEGALOVANIA._

Sans winked and flipped up his hood, eyelights glowing mischievously. And...he did absolutely nothing.

Frisk's heart dropped. Conrad gave them a smug glance.

Then Sans _jumped._

He flipped ten feet in the air, and landed in a handstand. His hoodie flapped open, revealing that he had apparently forgotten to wear a shirt. Frisk was frozen in utter shock before Sans dipped out of the handstand and started breakdancing, using his forearms and the top of his back to roll and flip over himself, legs kicking out deliberately. Shaking themself out of the shock, Frisk smiled and silently cheered with Undyne, Papyrus and the monster kid.

Papyrus hadn't been lying. Sans really _could_ dance.

The newly-confirmed-to-be-a-dancing skeleton hoisted himself into an almost horizontal one-armed handstand, one arm pulling one leg to have its Converse level with the knee of his other leg. He dropped down to lie down in the same position, the hand that had previously been holding him up now propping up his head. Sans gave another wink, and then suddenly he was _vertical_ , still in the relaxed pose, with only his elbow touching the ground.

The shocked staring of probably literally everyone except Papyrus was wonderfully palpable. Frisk laughed silently.

Sans allowed his forearm to rest against the ground as his legs kicked up and froze in a 'running' position. One hand formed a peace sign as he posed in the tableau, falling down so his fingers framed his left eyesocket. Then his arm popped, and he was in a one-arm handstand again, the other hand holding the ankle of his left leg as his legs moved fluidly into poses. His hand was taken away, and he spun on his skull, his legs first vertical, then slowly horizontal, then in a stag position. A handstand again as Sans front-handspringed back to his feet.

He arched back down, like he was going to bend into a bridge but Sans' hands didn't touch the ground before he flipped over himself again, turning into a back walkover and landing in a split. Papyrus looked an inch away from hooting.

Sans tossed himself upside down, impressively holding the splits. He bounced himself vertical again and jumped from the position to standing upright.

His body started to jerk and roll on a way that was somehow balletic. The movement traveled down from his chest, and when it reached his feet, Sans jumped again, backwards this time. He hung in the air for a moment, his legs in perfect stag positioning, one arm outstretched to be parallel be his extended leg, the other draped almost lazily across his skull, his hoodie fluttering open to expose the bones of his ribs and spine.

He landed on his shoulder blades and forearms. Sans planted his sneakers and surged upright without using his hands, spinning once before stopping facing Frisk. He finger-gunned them before the gun turned into a pointing finger.

Frisk smiled and stepped up next to him.

They beamed at Conrad and Natasha, both of whom were practically _goggling_ at what had just transpired. Out of the corner of their eye, Frisk could still see Papyrus grinning and laughing merrily. Applause rang out from all sides: the catchy beat of the songs and Sans' frankly _astonishing_ moves had attracted a crowd.

"your turn," Sans grinned.

"T-that wasn't-" Conrad stuttered.

"ballet? never said it had to be, buddy."

Natasha the ballerina did a good job of acting unperturbed. "I hope the music for the partner dance is not as _vulgar?"_

Frisk glowered, but if Sans was offended, he didn't show it. "sure, lady. you'll _tutu_ -ly be able to rock out to this one."

He flicked his fingers at the IPod. The melody that played felt like statues and music boxes, like the long-forgotten smile of an old friend.

Sans bowed deeply in front of Frisk, offering a skeletal hand. They took it, and was immediately spun out. Sans, never letting go of their hand, slid around them in a hairpin turn like the tiled ground was ice. Frisk, remembering parts of his previous dance, glided down into the splits. He let his feet slide out from under him and landed on his back, grabbing both their hands in his and crossing his legs for leverage before using his feet to clutch them by the waist and hoist them through the air in an aided grande jeté.

The rest of the dance passed in a similar fashion. Sans would use a hip-hop/breakdancing move to complement Frisk's ballet, or simply play the male part of their dance to the best of his ability. Outside of their own concentration, Frisk kept an eye on Conrad and Natasha. They moved more fluently than Sans and Frisk, definitely. However, while Conrad was a better dancer overall and Natasha, being an actual _ballerina,_ could pull off some of the toughest moves Frisk could think of, there was the issue of _size_. Despite being seventeen and five years older than Frisk, Sans was only an inch or two taller, and they were probably close to the same weight. Conrad was a twelve-year-old boy trying to do lifts and keep in sync with an adult, professional ballerina. Plus, Sans and Frisk's breakdancing/ballet hybrid worked far better than they had thought it would.

Sans' hands felt different when covered by the fingerless gloves, Frisk noticed. They could tell- after all, they had barely let go of each other's hands for the whole dance. Without letting go, they lowered into an arabesque: the move they had been working on. Frisk could lift their leg until it was a ninety degree angle with the rest of their body, and compensated for their limitations by sinking their top half until it was in a horizontal line with the extended leg.

Sans didn't unclasp their hands, either, choosing to instead bend backwards until everything above his knees was also parallel to the ground. He winked at them before, once again, falling to the ground. This time, though, he pressed both sneakers into Frisk's torso, lifting them over himself.

Frisk, panicking slightly, disentangled their hands from his in order to stop their head from crashing into the ground. They planted their palms in a handstand to avoid inelegantly crashing to the ground. Sans followed their lead, and Frisk found their own face only a few inches away from the skeleton's. He gave them another wink before abruptly wrapping his arms around their waist and somersaulting, setting Frisk on their feet and sliding through their legs. He billowed upright, grabbed Frisk's hands, and then they were off again. Sans dipped them low, their leg flying up almost instinctively so Frisk's body formed a diagonal line. He picked them up, they spun, and they danced in short bursts like lightning.

Frisk was enjoying themself, honestly. Surprised bubbles of laughter were teased out of them whenever Sans did something unexpected, and he always brought them along for the ride. Frisk was taken aback when they abruptly felt control of the dance being relinquished to them. They quickly started the movement back up again.

Sans was a good partner. It felt like their minds were working on the same frequency, the skeleton picking up instantaneously on whatever they wanted to do. As Sans picked them up again, supporting them with one hand behind their knee and the other spliced against their back, Frisk felt the slight tingle of magic. They realized he was continuously CHECKing them: finding out their stamina and to an extent reading their thoughts. Clever.

Sans set them on his shoulders and spun. Now that Frisk was looking, they could detect the silver-bluish light gathering near them: blue magic at the ready, a safety net to catch them if they fell. Possibly so Toriel would not kill them when she heard about the risky moves they were carrying out. Frisk appreciated the gesture.

They tried his method, a CHECK glimmering through their thoughts.

 ***Sans the skeleton**

 ***1/1 HP**

 ***1 ATK, 1 DEF**

 ***Is thinking of something tricky…**

The picture flashed through their mind, and Frisk couldn't stop their lips from quirking up. It was now or never; the song would end in a few seconds.

Grasping his gloved hands, Frisk stood. Their ballet slippers flattened, standing on his shoulder blades as they tilted forwards. Their death grip on Sans' hands was the only thing preventing them from hurtling into the ground. Frisk leaped.

Their and Sans' clenched hands sent Frisk tumbling over his head and into a somersault, landing almost _too_ lightly on their feet. They faced Sans, unwilling to break the contact.

It was Sans who pulled his hands away in favor of bowing to them. Frisk curtsied as the final notes of the melody rang out over the now-silent square. Conrad and Aunt Natasha the ballerina finished their dance in a tableau of grace.

The square exploded with applause.

Frisk felt a blush rise to their cheeks as they heard Undyne whoop loudly. The monster kid and Papyrus could be heard above the crowd, hollering and shouting.

The three others surrounded Frisk and Sans in a moment. "I didn't you had moves like that, punks!" Undyne guffawed, ruffling Frisk's hair into more of a mess than it already was from their dance.

"Yo, Frisk, you were _amazing!"_ the monster kid hooted in glee, jumping up and down and falling on their face in the midst of their excitement. Blue magic set him back on his feet. "Heh, thanks!"

Papyrus had picked Sans up and was spinning him around. Although Sans' hood had somehow stayed up throughout the entire dance-off, it was whisked off now, revealing the prominent glowing blue blush of the younger skeleton. "THAT WAS WONDERFUL! WHAT WERE YOU SO WORRIED ABOUT, BROTHER?"

Being twirled around, Sans scratched uncomfortably at the back of his skull. "i didn't do that much. you should really be praising the kid."

"YOU DID A LOT! BUT YOU'RE RIGHT. AS RARE AS IT IS, IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES." Papyrus set his brother down, and, before Frisk knew it, they were the one being tossed through the air. "FRISK, YOU WERE VERY GRACEFUL AND BALLET-ISH!"

"Alright, numbskull, set 'em down," Undyne saved Frisk. "So where'd you get that good, punk?" she asked Sans. Said skeleton ducked his head and turned back to Frisk.

"you did great, kid. good job."

 _You too,_ Frisk signed. They were unable to squash a grin. _Let's do that again sometime._

He mirrored their grin. "maybe." Sans plucked off his fingerless gloves and stowed them in his pocket before zipping up his hoodie.

"And Sans?"

"undyne?" Sans acknowledged.

"Put on a shirt next time."

"Hey!" Conrad yelled, pushing towards them with Natasha the prima ballerina in tow. "We have to know the winner!"

Oh, right. Frisk steeled themself before a rather obvious flaw made itself known. The monster kid voiced their concern. "Uh, yo, Conrad...who was judging this?"

Conrad simpered at them and pointed at someone Frisk had failed to notice until now. "Mme. Julienne, duh."

 _Oh._ There was a sinking feeling in the pits of Frisk's stomach. The ballet instructor looked at Frisk's mismatched family with disdain.

"Who won?" they spoke.

Mme. Julienne scoffed. "Conrad and the prima ballerina, obviously. Do you have eyes, child? That was not proper dancing."

The sinking feeling began to feel more like drowning. Frisk clenched their teeth. Hey had made a bet, after all, and Conrad had won. Their DETERMINATION had been a good attempt, but it hadn't been enough.

Papyrus drooped. Undyne's mouth dropped open in indignation. Sans shared a glance with Frisk. "aw, don't be like that, kid." They could hear the disappointment in his voice. "least you trie-"

"Hey!" someone in the crowd yelled. Frisk's eyes whipped towards them in shock. It was a young man, with brown hair and bulging biceps. They were fairly certain that they'd never seen him before in their life. "That isn't fair!"

Someone else started to shout as well: a teenage girl. "The kid and the skeleton were awesome! They shouldn't lose!"

The crows began to protest. "The breakdancing ballet team was better! They should win!"

"The skeleton and the little girl should have won!" For once, the misgendering didn't make Frisk angry. They were wearing a tutu, after all. They could see how someone could get confused.

"Change your decision!"

"Monster team for the win!"

More people took up the chant. "Mon-ster-team! Mon-ster-team!"

Papyrus started to NYEH-HEH-HEH loudly and exultantly. Undyne whooped noisily. The monster kid stomped his feet in an effort to fuel the noise. Frisk could _hear_ Sans grinning.

"Fine!" Mme. Julienne shouted over the turmoil. "Fine! The monster team wins!"

The crowd cheered wildly, but Frisk didn't think there could be a satisfying sight than Conrad and Natasha's mouths falling open in disbelief. They couldn't resist CHECKing their dance partner one more time.

 ***Sans the skeleton**

 ***1/1 HP**

 ***1 ATK, 1 DEF**

 ***He's happy.**

* * *

The four of them dropped the monster kid off at his house and walked back home chattering, Frisk signing and giggling silently at their family's antics. The door to their own house swung open, revealing a not-so-pleased former queen.

"My child," Toriel started, fond exasperation on her features as she showed them her phone. "Would you like to explain why there is a video of you and Sans dancing on the internet that currently has several million views?"

Frisk's own face drained of color as Sans' exploded into a blue flush. He quickly shook Frisk's hand. "nice dancing with you, kid, bye."

With a flash of blue shortcut magic, Sans, Papyrus, and Undyne all disappeared, leaving Frisk alone on the doorstep.

Toriel laughed and held open the door. "Come in, my child. You can tell me about it over a slice of pie."

* * *

 **There we are! Random pointless fluff! Woohoo! If it's not clear, the songs Natasha dances alone to is 'Battle Against A True Hero', Sans dances to 'Megalovania', and the partner dance-off is set to 'Memory'.**

 **This story is not meant to be Sans/Frisk, by the way. It is stated that they have a five year age difference, and I personally tried to make Sans more of a big brother/cool uncle/best friend. But if you took it like that or not, I mean, it's not my place to shut down your opinion. You guys do you.**

 **If you want to see how I picture Sans' moves, try the With A Piece Of Chalk video by JuBaFilms. The kid in the video is flipping talented, and the video itself is heartbreaking.**

 **The arabesque-to being flipped over-handstand-double somersault to your feet-hip-hop doer slides between your legs that Sans and Frisk pull off** ** _is_** **possible if the arabesque-doer has no idea what's happening! I was actually the arabesque-doer when I was randomly dancing with my friend, and then he pulled** ** _that_** **on me. I was terrified, but when we watched the video we took after, it looked** ** _awesome._**

 **If people like this I might add another chapter or two based on Dancetale inspired stuff, okay?**

 **Thanks for reading, reviews and constructive criticism are welcome, and have a great day!**

 **See you soon!**

 **-TheEscapedCharacter**


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